Alpha stood by the window, her palm pressed gently against the glass. Her usually sharp eyes were tinged faintly red, as if the weight of silence was becoming too much.
Outside, the city lights glowed dimly. Yet in her mind, only one image burned clearly—Cid.
His voice. His aloofness. His obliviousness.
She exhaled sharply.
"How shameless… They dare to mimic him."
A quiet creak pulled her out of thought. The door behind her cracked open.
Eta stepped in, holding a folder. "I'm done with what you asked."
Alpha turned slowly. "What did you find?"
Eta held out the file. "I tracked the origin of the masks. They were supplied to a small shop in the Capital. A place called Masks and Tools."
Alpha took the papers without a word. "Thank you, Eta. This will come in handy."
Eta tilted her head slightly, watching her commander rub her eyes.
"You should rest, Alpha."
"I will," she said, voice distant.
Eta said nothing more. As she left, Alpha muttered under her breath, "…I'm just tired."
Capital City – Following Day
Alpha stood on a rooftop, cloaked in silence.
Below her sat a quiet, aged building nestled between two taverns: Masks and Tools. Unremarkable. Ordinary. Almost forgettable.
She leapt down, landing softly in a nearby alley, and quickly shifted into casual attire. Her hair tied back, her aura suppressed—just another customer.
As she stepped inside, the scent of leather and old paper filled the air.
Behind the counter, an elderly woman looked up and immediately beamed.
"Oh my, what a pretty lady! Aren't you just radiant?"
Alpha smiled warmly. "You think so?"
"Oh, yes, dear," the woman said, chuckling. "Any man would die just standing next to you."
Alpha chuckled politely, her eyes subtly scanning the shop.
Along the walls hung dozens of animal masks—foxes, bears, serpents. She felt a distinct aura oozing from them. Faint but familiar.
Demonic magic.
"May I ask…" Alpha's tone softened into something casual, flirtatious. "Where did you get these masks?"
The woman reached up and removed one—a wolf-shaped mask.
As she did, a surge of dark energy pulsed out, briefly altering the atmosphere in the room.
"My husband makes them. He's a tailor, not too famous, but well-known by certain circles. You might've heard of him… Dr. Weil."
Alpha's eyes narrowed. "Dr. Weil? Doesn't ring a bell. But… I'd like to schedule a custom order."
The woman smiled. "Of course! He's out back—"
Ding.
The shop bell rang.
Alpha's words stopped cold. The air soured.
A man entered—his hair long, unkempt. His glasses smeared. His coat reeked of sulfur and rot. His very presence bent the energy in the room like a vortex.
Around him—demonic magic swirled, thick and oppressive.
Alpha's breath hitched. Her ears rang. Her heartbeat slowed.
"Suppress it. Breathe. Breathe."
The man's gaze swept across the shop, finally landing on her.
"This lady?" His voice was low, almost mechanical. "What does she want?"
"She's here to order a custom mask," the old woman said, still cheerful.
Alpha opened her mouth but couldn't speak. Her ears buzzed. Her thoughts blurred.
Weil tilted his head, studying her with narrowed eyes. For a moment, one glowed faint red.
"A custom mask, huh? I might have time next week. Stop by again," he said, his voice curling into a grin.
Alpha nodded weakly. "That sounds fine…"
She stumbled back, managing a bow before exiting the shop.
"Come again soon!" the old woman called.
Once outside, Alpha gasped for air, collapsing to her knees in the alley. She wiped sweat from her brow, her face pale.
"Just who… is that man?"
She stood, steeling herself.
"Dr. Weil… is no craftsman. He's a threat. I have to inform Shadow—he could be plotting something massive."
Meanwhile – Outside Mitsugoshi Company
Cid stood next to Rose Oriana, dressed in a formal black suit that clearly didn't belong to him.
He stared at the glass entrance. "…How did this happen?"
His inner monologue began unraveling:
"Yesterday, she asked me out again. My stomach went full nuclear. Then I blacked out. And when I woke up—boom. I'm being force-dressed by a giant suit-wearing guy claiming to be her bodyguard."
He glanced at Rose, who stood beside him, cheeks bright pink, hands fidgeting with her hair.
"You look good in a suit, Cid," she whispered, then quickly turned away.
Cid resisted the urge to vanish into a sewer drain.
"This is it. This is the moment. Time for the ultimate mob maneuver… a perfectly average date."
He sighed and placed a hand on the door handle.
"Time for a Cid performance."